


Luke & Vader One Shots & Ficlets

by sunshinechildskywalker



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: And so does his dad, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Baby Luke Skywalker, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29584044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinechildskywalker/pseuds/sunshinechildskywalker
Summary: Collection of one shots and ficlets involving Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader's father & son relationship.
Relationships: Firmus Piett & Darth Vader, Firmus Piett & Luke Skywalker, Han Solo & Darth Vader, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker & Han Solo, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker & Han Solo
Comments: 73
Kudos: 121





	1. Such Sweet Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Vader is hurt Luke almost leaves without saying goodbye, but Luke can't know that :)

“Luke!” Vader called from the end of the elegant hallway. The boy turned his head, his small figure haloed in the sunlight streaming in from the window. 

“Yes? Is everything alright?” Vader strode down to meet him, anger bubbling up more rapidly the closer he became. 

“You believe you may just  _ leave _ the premise any time you please?” He snapped, his massive boots now smacking against the tile floor. The boy’s features assembled into gentle confusion as he almost shook his head. 

“We talked about this, Father. I’m leaving with Han for a few days,” he reminded him gently. Vader halted in front of him, hands on his hips in parental disapproval. Then suddenly, the boy’s blue eyes lit up with understanding. “Oh, I get it.”

“What?” Vader snapped, locking his shields up tighter. A warm smile blossomed on the boy’s lips, distracting Vader from his anger for a quick second as memories of  _ her  _ resurfaced with the identical feature. 

“You were afraid I was going to leave without saying goodbye,” he said, his blue eyes dancing with good-natured humor.

“Wh-what? No, that..is most certainly not-” Suddenly, Vader’s words were halted by two arms encircling his middle and squeezing, followed by a head resting against his chest. 

“How could I forget to say goodbye to you?” he mumbled into his armor. Although stunned with such affection, Vader carefully brought up his own two hands and placed them on his son’s back. To Vader, the moment became almost awkward as a silence developed between the two, but he could feel Luke’s contentment in his Force presence as he held onto his father.

“When will you be returning?” Vader finally asked. 

“Four days, it won’t be long,” he assured, nestling against Vader’s chest. “But I’ll still miss you,” he smiled. After another moment of being stunned by such emotion, Vader gently patted his back. 

“As I will you, young one.” He could feel his son smile once again, holding him tighter.

“I love you, Father,” he whispered. Despite being the most stunned he had been in these past few minutes, Vader managed to bring up a gloved hand to caress his son’s blond locks, compensating for the words he could not conjure. 

“You must refrain from causing trouble, young one,” Vader finally said, although much more gently than usual. Luke laughed.

“I will,” he promised, the smile still evident in his tone.

“And you must come home in a decent amount of time,” Vader continued.

“Four days, no more, I promise,” Luke assured. After another moment of Luke holding onto his father, the two heard the Falcon roar to life outside. The boy looked up to his father, the brilliant blue shade of his eyes making a supernova explosion seem pastel. His smile blossomed into his trademark toothy array, putting the sun to shame with its light.

“You’re really going to miss me,” he said, not quite a question, but an astonished statement. Vader scoffed, picking his head up to look away from the beacon of light staring up at him like an eager child.

“Is it really that absurd that I may appreciate your presence?” Luke laughed, almost giggled like a small child. A small dose of regretful nostalgia ached in the pit of Vader’s stomach as he was again reminded of just how much of his own son’s life he had missed, but fought the anger at the ones responsible as not to disturb the moment. 

Ever so gently, Luke pulled away from their embrace, trailing his hands down his father’s arms as some distance grew between them.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised, his words adopting a much more serious tone. “I can call you on the way home.”

“Inform me when you arrive at Corellia as well,” Vader requested, suddenly wanting the child back in his arms where his safety was ensured. 

“I will.” Ever so tentatively, Vader brought up a gloved hand to cup his son’s cheek, holding his face in his hand. He stroked his thumb over his cheek as Luke’s smile grew once again. “I’ll be fine, I promise.” 

“You had better be,” Vader semi-threatened. “Or you will not leave this castle again.” Luke maintained his smile as he brought up his hand to overlap his father’s on his face. 

“I promise,” he repeated. “Really.” After the vow settled around the two, Luke carefully broke free of his father’s grasp and gathered his bags next to the door. Just before he pressed the button to open the door, he turned around again, smiling. 

“I’ll call you when we land,” he said, relaying Vader’s previous request. 

“Yes you will,” Vader confirmed, a little sharper than he had intended. “Immediately.” The boy nodded, still smiling. He pressed the button, slowly backing out of the room as the door opened. 

“I will see you soon.” Just as he turned away, Vader had the sudden urge once again to wrap his arms around his son to keep him close, to guarantee his avoidance of harm. He wanted to ensure that no ill-mannered creatures crossed his path, that no technical issues occured aboard that unorthodox ship, and that no possibility even existed that he wouldn’t return home. 

As the boy walked away, his frame so slight just as hers, Vader took a step outside and failed to control the words that popped out of his mouth.

“Luke,” he called. 

“Yes?” the boy responded, turning back around with such a serene aura. Vader wanted to tell him to come back, to stay in the castle forever where he would be safe, but he knew he couldn’t; he had to let the boy go.

“Be…” Vader sighed as much as his respirator would allow. “Be safe, son.” That same smile sprouted once again, and Luke nodded.

“I will, Father.”

  
  



	2. Baby Luke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader holds him son for the first time :`)

He had witnessed brilliant collisions of starships, watched the Death Star come to life piece by piece, and seen creatures disappear from the very atmosphere, but nothing would ever astonish Darth Vader more than holding his own son. He cradled him close, making certain he was secure. This brilliant beacon of light was his own offspring, one with whom he shared DNA. From the pitch midnight of Vader's own Force presence came this little bright speck; his baby boy.    
  


The child's blue eyes were wide open, studying his father with the utmost surprise. His mouth was open as he babbled incohesive words, his pitch an even, calm tone.    
  


"Luke," Vader said, wonder evident even through his vocoder. He tasted the name on his tongue; the name of his own son. This boy would be the only decent male with the last name of Skywalker. A fraction of an astonished sigh exited Vader’s mouth. "Luke." 

The child reached up a hand towards Vader. Hesitantly, he offered the child his gloved index finger. Luke grasped it tightly, closing his tiny fingers around his father's much larger one. 

Someone wanted Vader.    
  


After the boy spent a moment examining the large finger he was grasping, his eyes wandered back up to his father's mask. He studied it for a moment with the utmost curiosity. Although the world was tinted red by his mask lenses, Vader knew his son's eyes were the exact shade of his own.    
  


Various babbles came from little Luke's mouth, and after continuing to stare up at his father in wonder, his tiny lips broke out into a blossoming smile. He giggled loudly, clearly enjoying being in the arms of his father. Vader was confused when he first felt something pull at the corners of his mouth, stretching the scar tissue, until he realized something;   
  


He was smiling.    
  


Darth Vader was actually smiling.    
  


He would even admit to it; his son's laughter was greatly infectious.    
  


Vader thought he just wanted this boy as an apprentice, an ally, but while holding him, he realized he was getting so much more, and he wanted every bit of it. 

Vader knew with a crushing weight that one day he would have to train this innocent boy in the arts of the Dark Side of the Force, but holding him for the first time, he supposed it could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by!! Please consider leaving kudos and/or commenting :)


	3. (Trying) To Comfort The Dark Lord's Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Luke gets word of Wedge's death, Piett is left to attempt to comfort the lad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry about Wedge!! This one just kind of happened T_T

As Piett witnessed the young Skywalker fall apart in front of him, Piett realized he never noticed just how much older the lines of worry etched in the lad's face made him seem. His head was bowed, hands attempting to shield his blotchy, tear streaked face. 

With each shake of Luke’s shoulders and sob that escaped his lips, Piett, admittedly, missed the chipper young man whom he supposed he’d taken somewhat for granted. He had never expected to form any kind of pleasant acquaintanceship with a former rebel, much less a friendship, but he had to admit, he enjoyed his company. 

Piett set a tentative hand on the lad’s shoulder, trying his best to offer a little comfort. 

“Your father will be here shortly,” Piett tried to reassure, the only comfort he could guarantee the young man at the moment. Empty reassurances wouldn’t do either of them any good. With his head still bowed, the young man nodded, gasps still escaping his lips. Piett gave his shoulder a tentative pat, truly wishing he could do more for the son of his Lord. 

Almost as if on cue, the door opened to reveal Vader himself, the hiss of his respirator accenting his entrance. As characteristic of his entry, Vader was not displaying his usual commanding, authoritative self- he was being a father.

“Luke!” Piett considered himself wise to step aside as his Lord rushed to meet his son, to somehow aid him.

“Father,” Luke exhaled as he met him halfway with open arms. Piett only caught a glimpse of his face before it was buried in Vader’s chestplate, his eyes red rimmed as if they’d been attacked by a dash of salt. The young man latched himself onto his father, and Piett noted how little of comfort it appeared. His shoulders began to again shake with sobs, fresh tears surely streaming. 

Vader, although at a delayed speed, slowly wrapped his own mechanical arms around his small-framed son. Piett could never remember a time in which he saw his commanding officer, the man whom most didn’t even believe to  _ be  _ a man, show any kind of affection whatsoever.

“What is it, son?” Vader asked, his tone much more calm as he slowly stroked the lad’s blonde locks. Incoherent mumblings were seemingly the only response the young man could manage. 

“Luke, slow down. What is wrong?” A few more gasps followed, the young Commander obviously struggling with vocalizing the source of his grief. Only another eruption of sobs made it past his lips, pressing his head against the armor. 

“A...a friend of his, my lord,” Piett supplied to the struggling communication. Vader looked up to regard his Admiral, the stare he gave him almost making it seem as though he hadn’t even known anyone besides his grieving son was in the room. He brought his masked gaze back down to the young man latched onto him. 

“This is true?” Only a nod in response. Piett could visibly see the grip around the much smaller man tighten, but he couldn’t detect any physical pain expressed. Vader once again brought up his gloved hand to stroke his hair back, seemingly the only other gesture of comfort he could manage. “Come,” he finally intoned after a few measured cycles of his respirator and stifled sobs from Skywalker. 

He pried the younger man off with more gentleness than Piett could ever recall witnessing from his commanding officer. Vader set a massive gloved hand on Skywalker’s comparatively small shoulder, angling him towards the door. 

“Piett, bring a glass of water to my quarters,” Vader called over his shoulder as he guided his son out of the room. 

“Yes, milord.” Only a year prior, Piett would never have believed if someone informed him his orders would be reduced to that of a water boy, and he would be promptly offended as well. 

However, the sense of duty he felt as Admiral of Darth Vader’s personal flagship was just as strong to get this grieving boy a simple glass of water, and not for the sheer reason of Vader himself ordering him to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by! Please consider leaving kudos and/or commenting :)


	4. Bonus Dad Piett

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When father and son argue over Luke's health, Piett is left as an unwilling mediator.

“Admiral,” Vader snapped as he stood over an ill-looking Skywalker. The young rebel slowly turned his head towards Piett, and the former Imperial took note of the shadows under the boy's typically vibrant blue eyes. Piett approached the father and son duo semi-cautiously. He eyed his lord with a daring hint of suspicion. 

“Yes, milord?” He asked warily.

“Feel his forehead,” Vader commanded. Although an odd order to hear from his Lord, Piett fought an expression of pure confusion that dared to assemble on his face, for he didn’t dare to question Vader. He may no longer have any power in the military, but Piett had no intention of finding out just how keen Vader’s parental instincts were. 

Piett stepped toward Skywalker carefully. Luke offered him a half smile, despite his current condition. The admiral hesitantly brought his hand up to rest on the young man’s forehead, a shadow of awkwardness looming close behind. 

“Does the temperature feel unusually warm?” Vader demanded in his deep bass. Piett nodded slowly, bringing his hand down in a semi-awkward fashion.

“It does feel quite warm, milord,” Piett confirmed, trying to sound professional despite this being one of the most informal requests his former commanding officer had given him. 

“Luke, you are  _ not  _ well. Piett has confirmed my suspicions.” Now the poor admiral was part of the family drama, whether he liked it or not. 

“Father, I am  _ fine _ ,” the young man insisted, although Piett now noticed his flushed skin tone. 

“No, you are  _ not.  _ You are to stay here and rest until you have fully recovered.” 

“But today was our flying day. I wanted to go see Coruscant with you,” Skywalker protested. 

“We can postpone that until you are well, but now you must rest,” Vader brought down the intensity of his tone a few notches with this. The former Sith Lord turned to Piett. “Admiral, escort my son to his quarters.” Piett supposed he would never get used to hearing his former commanding officer refer to the single individual whose hunt took top priority in the Empire as his son. 

“Father, I can handle that myself,” Skywalker said. 

“No, Piett will ensure that you are safe in your quarters to get the rest you need and that you do not attend to an alternative agenda. Now go,” Vader shooed the two away with a brisk turn and swirl of black fabric trailing him. Skywalker looked up to Piett, offering him another small smile. 

“Well, looks like you get to see my quarters, Admiral,” he offered with a hint of humor. Piett offered the young man what felt like a forced smile, feeling tight across his lips. 

“It appears so.” With that, Skywalker rose and the two men left. 

Upon reaching the corridor containing his private quarters, Skywalker broke the comfortable silence between the two.

“Thank you for tolerating my Father. I understand he can be difficult to work with, but he’s really very fortunate to have you here. We both are.” Although the young man was evidently drained from his current condition, sincerity was clear in his words. The admiral looked over to Skywalker, who offered him his signature grin. Piett couldn’t resist the small smile that crept across his own lips; this time, it felt real. Even at fractional power, the young man’s smile was still quite infectious. 

“Thank you, Commander.”

“Please, call me Luke. I don’t want any reminders of the war,” Luke insisted politely. Piett nodded in understanding, his own title bringing back unfavorable memories as well- especially one leading to his obtaining of the title ‘Admiral’. 

“Your father...cares for you a great deal,” Piett supplied to the growing silence. He couldn’t help but pause after the word father, for this relationship still took much getting used to. He couldn’t imagine what Skyw- no,  _ Luke _ , must have felt like when he began to refer to Darth Vader as such. A small smile sprouted on the young man’s lips, looking to the floor.

“Yes, he does,” he said simply, although Piett could tell so much more meaning hidden behind the few words. 

The two reached Luke’s quarters and parted ways once again, preceded with Piett’s admittedly basic well wishes and Luke’s similar to him, not forgetting to thank him once again for handling his father.

As Piett left  _ Luke  _ to his peace, he couldn’t help but think that being under the care of a former Sith Lord may really be as gratifying as the young man described. After all, Piett had no doubt that anyone who had the threat of an idea to harm the protectee would not live to see another standard day.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by! Please consider leaving kudos and/or commenting :)


	5. Balcony Songs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader catches Luke singing to himself on the balcony.

“Now, it’s goodnight, my friend. Goodnight friend. Goodnight-but not...” Luke sang quietly to himself, swinging his feet from his bedroom balcony he was perched on. He was so lost in the lyrics, so lost in the stars above, that he didn’t realize he had company.    
  


“You have quite a voice, young one.” Luke’s heart skipped a beat as he whipped around to see his father standing in the doorway, apparently his lone audience member. He threw a hand over his chest, for at least it was only him, but it didn’t stop his cheeks from growing rosy.    
  


“I...didn’t realize you were there,” he said, his blush practically coloring his words as well as his cheeks. Vader took a step closer to the boy, the gentle breeze fluttering his cape.    
  


“I did not realize how much talent you had, my son.” Luke dropped his gaze to the ground, his cheeks still burning.    
  


“I don’t know if I’d call it that,” he mumbled, swinging his legs again.    
  


“What do you suppose it be called?” His leg began to swing in a circle self-consciously.    
  


“Practice?” He suggested, but he knew his father shook his head behind him.    
  


“I believe it is genetics,” Vader told him. Luke’s head snapped up, certainly grabbing his attention.    
  


“You used to sing?” Luke knew the odd sound that emitted from his father’s vocoder was a scoff, and Vader waved off such a suggestion. A smirk sprouted on Luke’s lips, blossoming into a full smile. After the humor settled around them, Vader spoke.    
  


“Your mother,” he said, now the one between the pair only able to look at the ground. “She had quite the talent.” Luke looked to his father, wonder welling up in his eyes.    
  


“Really?” he asked, lapping up this new information. He spun around to face his father from his perch on the balcony. Vader could only nod his head in affirmation.    
  


“She...sang to you and your sister while you were in her womb,” he explained, the way he angled his head away obvious to Luke that he was in deep pain. Luke nudged his father’s mental shields, proving himself correct.    
  


“I bet it was beautiful,” he supplied after a moment, very unsure of what to say- he didn’t want to continue the conversation and cause his father more pain, but he didn’t want to seem disrespectful in being disinterested either. Vader nodded his head slowly.    
  


“As is your singing, young one. Very much so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by! Please consider leaving kudos and/or commenting :)


	6. Carbonite Luke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader frees Luke from a block of carbonite.

The dull, durasteel gray of the carbonite rapidly morphed into a bright red, the element thawing quickly. Vader could not tear his eyes from the frozen image of his son in the block, lifting his hands above his head in fear and his eyes shut tightly in a brace. 

Vader knew what was coming, but nothing could prepare him for it. 

A pit of guilt rested in the bottom of Vader’s stomach, resonating throughout him so deeply that he did not react in time to catch the boy as his body crumpled and fell to the floor in a heap. 

Although quite painful for him, Vader quickly knelt down beside the boy. The young Jedi began to shiver violently, his small form drenched in sweat; the thick smell of musk hung in the air. The boy’s blue eyes quivered open, widening as he realized he couldn’t see. He shook even more violently, not much different from a leaf quaking on a tree branch. His youthful features expressed pure fear, seeming to strike him to the core. 

Although Vader was hesitant to do so due to possibly frightening him further, and knowing for sure that the boy would recoil once he realized who was holding him, he gently grabbed the boy and pulled him into his own lap. 

“Luke,” Vader said, trying to make his voice sound soothing. The boy’s features morphed from pure terror to mild confusion. 

“Fa..father?” He asked, squinting to attempt to see the figure holding him. “Is..is that you?” Luke reached up a hand to blindly grope for his father, setting his hand over his respirator vent. Vader released as much of a sigh as his respirator would allow, relief washing over him. Force, he was sure Luke would thrash in fear and try his best to do anything to get away from Vader. 

He set careful fingers under the boy’s chin and tilted it up. 

“Yes, son,” he said, attempting to be reassuring. “You are safe.”

“Where am I? I can’t see,” the boy said, his tone boarding frantic. 

“You are in Jabba’s Palace. You were captured by his agents and taken to him after you were frozen,” Vader explained, his anger seeping through his tone. 

“Wh..why?”

“That insignificant collection of slime took a particular interest in your parentage and wished to sell you to bounty hunters. But I have taken rightful care of those Hutts.” He lowered his voice as he grumbled, “If only they would have  _ begged  _ for mercy.” 

Luke, apparently too distracted with his own blindness to respond to Vader’s comment, continued to blindly grope for his father. 

“Why can’t I see?”

“You have hibernation sickness. Your eyesight will return in time.”

“When?”

“Soon. Do not fear, young one. I will ensure your care while you recover. There is no need to worry,” Vader assured him. He dared to set a hand on the boy’s shoulder, still in his lap. Luke set his own hand on top of his once he found it. 

“Thank you for coming to find me,” Luke said as his tremors settled down. Vader felt the scar tissue tug lightly at the corners of his mouth. 

“There is no need for gratitude, Luke. It should be a given I do whatever it takes to find you.” A second later, Vader carefully scooped his son into his arms and began to carry him out of the now-vacant palace. “Whatever it takes.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by! Please consider leaving kudos and/or commenting :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for stopping by! Please consider leaving kudos and/or commenting :)


End file.
